


Echoes of a past glory.

by Sarlania



Category: Doctor Who, Historical RPF, Hornblower - C. S. Forester, Man From U.N.C.L.E., Master and Commander - Patrick O'Brian, Sapphire and Steel
Genre: Crossover, F/M, M/M, Multiple Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-21
Updated: 2009-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarlania/pseuds/Sarlania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my tribute to the Battle of Trafalgar, which was fought on October 21st, 1805, between the navies of Britain and France & Spain. Not a crossover in all the senses of the word. Understanding of all six “fandoms” not that necessary, but does help. Sapphire and Steel section set after Assignment 2. #5 based on Notes of Conversations with the Duke of Wellington by Earl Stanhope.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Echoes of a past glory.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my tribute to the Battle of Trafalgar, which was fought on October 21st, 1805, between the navies of Britain and France & Spain. Not a crossover in all the senses of the word. Understanding of all six “fandoms” not that necessary, but does help. Sapphire and Steel section set after Assignment 2. #5 based on Notes of Conversations with the Duke of Wellington by Earl Stanhope.

  
He stared unseeing at the parchment before him, unmarked but for the date.

20th October 1815.

He smiled inwardly, excitement briefly clouding the gravity of his current task.

Two complete letters lay before him with instructions to be sent if needed: one for his sisters and one, his solicitor.

But what does one write on the eve of battle to a friend, a senior officer?

 _Tap, tap._

That he valued their time serving together?

 _Tap, tap._

That he respected him? Admired him? Cared for him?

 _Silence._

But what comfort will words scratched upon parchment be to those who read them?

***

  


His fingers traced the grains of the wood, leaving behind a streak of blood. It was quiet down here in the shattered hold of HMS Victory. Thrush’s plans for world dominion had been foiled once again.

‘Whatever the cost,’ Waverly had said.

But he had been helpless when the bullet entered his partner’s shoulder and lodged in the spine. Helpless when he cradled his head and watched the life drain out of those warm, beautiful eyes; eyes that expressed a lifetime of regrets.

Ironic, then, his partner’s last words, whispered hoarsely against the din of gunfire above.

“Kiss me, Illya.”

***

  


As he walked along the beach, his sneakered feet sunk deeply into sand saturated by last night’s rain.

The body was just before him, wedged awkwardly between the rocks. He bent, feeling for a pulse.

Nothing.

The face was that of an old man, but the sailor couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. The body was bruised from being battered against the rocks during the storm.

Both legs were missing.

No name. No indication of nationality.

The Doctor straightened and shoved both hands into his pockets with a sigh.

What the earth giveth…

He shrugged and walked on.

***

  


Stephen Maturin thought he’d seen Jack in all his moods. So he was rather taken aback when he walked into the sitting room and found him pacing about with maniacal energy.

“Stephen!” he cried. “We won! We won!”

“I am glad to hear it, my dear.”

“Smashed their fleet to pieces!” Jack laughed.

“Did we indeed?”

“Oh yes! Lord Nelson-”

Jack’s face turned ashen and his trembling hands fumbled for purchase. Stephen rushed to his side and supported him to a chair. Bending over to check Jack’s pulse, he heard him whisper weakly.

“What is it?”

“Lord Nelson is dead.”

***

  


_“General, I believe you are the only man to have been present both at Trafalgar and Waterloo…”_

It was late and the other guests had already departed. Yet he stayed a while longer, sitting with the Duke in companionable silence.

The remark came out of nowhere.

“Trafalgar, eh?”

He nodded with a smile. “Was it not strange, my dear Duke, that not three years after we were destroyed and humiliated by your Navy, our countries had became allies, friends?”

The Duke threw back his head and laughed, his familiar whooping neigh echoing from the walls. “Friends, indeed, my dear Alava...”

***

  


He found her perched on the cliff edge, her slender figure silhouetted in the moonlight. She did not turn as he sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

 _{So, why call the cat Nelson?}_

A grin twitched at the corner of her mouth. __

[They had an admiral called Nelson- he only had one eye. Died fighting a battle off this coast.]

 _{What kind of man was he?}_

[Arrogant. Vain. Ruthless.]

{Oh?}

Sapphire eyes turned, sparkling amusingly at him.

 _[But he was courageous- and devoted to his duty…]_

He sighed.

 _[…His sacrifice saved those who couldn’t save themselves.]_

  



End file.
